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Check out my groovy parents at Kennywood, 1973. Twenty-one years-old and not yet married. They had no idea that less than a year later, they’d have a daughter. They had no idea as my mother sat on my father’s lap in the booth, waiting for the camera to flash, that they would have my sister four years later, that their marriage would fall apart in seven years. They didn’t worry about growing old or if their love would last. For them, it was just this moment on film, in a tiny photo booth which no longer exists. I think about this when I look through our old photos because I remember very little about the four of us as a family. I think about how young they were, their disappointments and dreams.